


Defeat Means Friendship

by siameze



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Naruto
Genre: Anime Tropes, Arthur Kirkland - Freeform, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Complete, Crack Treated Seriously, Crossover, Epic Battles, Gen, Humor, Mention of FrUK, just the battle mechanics, no actual pokemon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26094955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siameze/pseuds/siameze
Summary: Crossover/Gen. Sasuke chills in England's house during filler season. He's itching for a fight, so England humors him with an unorthodox battle that will test the limits of their wits, friendship, and tolerance for bullshit.
Relationships: England (Hetalia) & Uchiha Sasuke
Comments: 12
Kudos: 18





	1. Formula with a Twist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a crack premise with no stakes except for Sasuke and England's pride. Most of the main cast will make an appearance. No romance but slight FrUk and SNS for comedy

"I’m bored, England,” Sasuke spoke in a terribly bored voice. It was a regular rainy afternoon and the two were inexplicably sitting on a sofa in the island-nation’s living room. 

England did not bother looking up from his needle work. “Is that so?”

“Hn.” said Sasuke, deadpanning. He had an arm slung around the armrest and the rest of his body sprawled out on the sofa. “Do you want to battle me?” 

“Now, Sasuke,” England straightened up. “Didn’t I tell you I’m not in an action anime like you are? You can’t expect me to battle you when I don’t have any flashy ninja powers.”

“But you can entertain me with your flashy magic powers, can’t you?”

England gave him a look like he was crazy. Well… that’s technically not far from canon, but, that’s not the point.

Sasuke rolled his eyes, “Fine. Have it your way.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a game console. “I'll settle for a Pokémon battle.”

At that, one of England’s inexplicably thick eyebrows arched up. He set his pair of needles down with a thoughtful glance. “Well, I suppose I could indulge you. There isn’t much else to do, what with my show being on hiatus and yours in filler season.” 

Then he, too, dug out a shiny game console from the bookshelf behind him. Sasuke sat up. He was mildly pleased that England would humor him his request, but didn’t question his luck.

They faced each other on the sofa, holding their consoles in their laps. For a while, they just stared as the devices loaded. A muddled silence settled, and at once they were aware of two things: the dull patter of rain on the roof, and how anticlimactic this situation was.

Sasuke sighed. “On second thought,” 

But before he could abandon the attempt, England had an idea. “Wait, let me get my wand.” He quickly fished it out of his sleeve and waved its star-shaped tip over their game cartridges. Sasuke watched, mildly disturbed, as England began to chant one of those weird spells of his.

“… Dumbledora the explora Pikachu I – choose – YOU!” England declared, probably more dramatically than he had to.

And lo behold! A burst of energy blew up to the ceiling and bleached every corner of the room white. When Sasuke opened his eyes, he found himself standing on the edge of a giant battle stadium. A pokeball symbol was painted at the center, with white lines dividing the two sides.

Sasuke lifted his head back to marvel. The seating rows stretched, it seemed, to the sky no matter where he looked. All around him, the masses were cheering and waving. The announcer’s voice boomed from above, and it felt like he was being swallowed up by the brilliant colors and sounds. Shadows and spotlights swept across the stadium and all the while, confetti danced in the breeze. 

“This is - better.” Sasuke was impressed. He searched and finally spotted England, who was standing directly opposite him on the other side of the field. He was wearing what was clearly a royal green trainer outfit customized to his own taste, complete with fingerless gloves and a pouch on his waist. He examined himself and realized that he was wearing a pokefied version of his own outfit, topped with a navy blue hat.

“But of course. Only expect the best from the English,” England returned Sasuke’s smirk with his own. Sasuke was about to question how they were able to hear each other while standing so far away, but he was distracted by the announcer’s voice introducing them both, 'the challenger, from the hidden leaf village' and such.

Sasuke pinched the brim of his cap, testing the feel of it. 

“This wouldn’t happen to be the Indigo League, would it?”

“An adaptated version of it, yes.” England had a gleam in his eye.

Sasuke glanced at the special markings under England’s feet. He frowned. “And that spot you’re standing on wouldn’t happen to be the Champion’s spot, would it?”

“And what if it is?”

Sasuke rolled his eyes, “Why do you get to be the Champion?” 

“Because I’m the one with the wand. And you’re the one with the hat.” England said coolly, “Now, hush. Our battle’s about to begin.” He swept his arm up at the giant spotlights burning down on them.

“Tch. If you’re the Champion, then I’ll be the legend who beats you and claims that title.” 

“As if you could stand a chance."

Sasuke stepped into his challenge pose, flexing his fingers besides his pokeball pouch. England stepped forward as well.

The remaining lights dimmed, leaving two bright circles shining on the two ‘trainers.’ The audience grew quiet.

Then the announcer began: “Each trainer has a team of 6 at their use. The loser admits defeat when his entire team is unable to battle.” Meanwhile, hushed anticipation was steadily building. 

Sasuke and England met each other’s eyes – sharp onyx and cool jade – both aiming to give their all. 

“…Begin!” A flag was waved and a signal sounded.

The familiar beat of battle music blasted from the loudspeakers, and the anticipation level overflowed the brim. Screaming, cheering, clapping – it became a neutral buzz in Sasuke and England’s ears. They each tossed out a pokeball, shouting the age-old phrases:

“Go, pokeball!”

“I choose you!”

The two pokeballs snapped open in midair. Globs of red light came pouring out onto the field. They materialized into shapes to reveal…

Sasuke paused, stupefied. 

Standing before him was… Neji?

Across from Neji was China, who had come out of England’s pokeball. The two were crouched in a suspiciously videogame-like battle ‘ready’ position, with determined expressions.

“So this was what you had in mind?” Sasuke shot England a peevish, not-buying-it look. “Using the characters from our own shows to battle each other?”

“Oh, why not? Adds a layer of novelty to the experience! I’ll even let your side keep your ninja techniques,” England pushed, “China, use high jump kick!” 

China jumped a dozen feet into the air and aimed a kick to Neji’s shoulder, knocking him straight across the field. A trail of dust was thrown into the air as Neji skidded to a stop. He got back onto his feet, furious.

“Tch, cheap shot. Fight back with _close combat_!” Sasuke countered, jerking his arm towards China. Neji charged at China at a lightning speed, raising his energy-glowing hands to attack.

“Dodge it!” England yelled.

China managed to flip out of harm’s way in time, with Neji’s fingertips barely grazing his hip. “He’s fast!” 

England hissed, watching intently as Sasuke continued with his offense, “Now identify his position by activating your Byakugan!”

Immediately, Neji’s pale eyes bulged with veins and his body glowed with a powerful, white aura. China stiffened as an odd, tingling sensation pass through his body. 

“Attack with _force palm_! Use your speed to corner him!”

Like a bullet, Neji ran towards China again, whose face grew increasingly fearful. Sasuke’s side of the crowd roared. England cursed under his breath. It was too fast to dodge. 

Then his eyes widened when he thought of something and he yelled to China, “Quick! Wait until he gets close, then use _fire blast_!” 

A ring of smoldering flame budded from the center of China’s chest.

“Neji, stop!” Sasuke realized what England was doing but Neji was already too close and moving too fast.

He crashed into the flames in a direct hit. The impact sent him flying backwards and slammed him into the outer wall of the stadium. He fell to the ground, limp. Spirals were spinning in place of his Byakugan.

Sasuke stared in disbelief. 

* * *

~~NEJI~~ [FIGHTING] VS CHINA [FIRE/FIGHTING]  
SASUKE 0 : ENGLAND 1  



	2. Win Back The Crowd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He cleared his throat. “Using a ground type to gain an advantage—you catch on fast.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Battle mechanics don't follow the games exactly, btw

"So what was that pretentious nonsense about beating me again?” England taunted, chuckling his creepy chuckle and doing that weird spazzy thing with his arms.

Sasuke drew in a breath and composed himself. “Return, Neji.” It was frustrating to him how quickly and decisively he had lost his first match, but he was determined to rebound now that he knew how things worked. 

The bright red light darted Neji back into the pokeball in Sasuke’s hand. He lowered the tip of his cap to cover his eyes. Then in a swift jerk, he threw another pokeball. “Your turn, go!”

England stopped when the light faded to reveal a giant sand gorge and a pair of blank green eyes staring back at him. The lack of eyebrows disturbed him more than he would dare to admit. He cleared his throat. “Using a ground type to gain an advantage—you catch on fast.”

“You know me.” Sasuke said coolly. He was impatient to test out his new strategy, and took this chance to jump right in. “ _Sand-attack_ , now!” Gaara did not move a muscle. Instead, a sea of sand rose out of his gorge like a tall wave.

Without warning, they lashed out at China.

“Dodge by jumping, then use _high jump kick_!” cried England. China launched himself in midair.

“Keep blasting him with sand!” Sasuke yelled. Gaara’s eyes narrowed a hair strand and he continued to whip his sand at China with a storm-like force. 

“What are you doing?” England scoffed, “Don’t you know you’ll just run out of sand!”

“It’ll be more than enough for what I’m going for.” Sasuke said ominously, glancing up at China. England followed his gaze… and his mirth wavered. China was being bombarded so heavily by Gaara’s sand tomb that he was having trouble seeing, much less attacking. China cried out, shielding his eyes from the monstrous winds. “I do not remember agreeing to this!”

“Get out of there, China!” England cried, “Use _cross chop_ to cut through the sand!” 

The wall of sand was sliced through, leaving two blue streaks of energy in their place. China was advancing at Gaara fast, maneuvering around his floating sand, twisting and turning. But it was nearly impossible to predict where Gaara would attack. “Use _cross chop_ again! Give it your all!” rang England’s voice, and then China lunged behind Gaara.

Sasuke closed his eyes. “ _Earth dome_.”

The ground below Gaara’s feet cracked open and a giant earth wall swallowed him whole.

“What?” England was caught off guard, seeing that China’s slashes didn’t even make a dent. In fact, China was clutching his hands, and looking pained, like he had rammed it into solid rock. Which, England realized, in fact he did.

Sasuke did not give China time to move back. “Now, Gaara! Finish him with _sand tomb_!”

In an instant, Gaara’s earth wall collapsed and China was completely vulnerable to the incoming winds of sand.

“Dodge! Now!” England cursed breathlessly. But like what happened to Neji, it was too late. He watched helplessly as China took the blow and fell to the ground in a glorious heap.

To add to salt to the wound, it was super effective. 

* * *

~~CHINA~~ [FIRE/FIGHTING] VS GAARA [GROUND]  
SASUKE 1 : ENGLAND 1


	3. Fish Out of Water

“You did well, China.” England said softly, disappointed in losing the starting lead he had gained. He glared down at Sasuke, who had the audacity to smirk and do that arrogant hand-on-hip stance of his. 

“One down.” Sasuke was still smirking. “Only five more and your title is mine.”

“Don’t get cocky.” England warned. He held out in his hand and withdrew China into his pokeball. He put it back in his pouch and exchanged it for another.

Sasuke found it odd that the corners of England’s lips twitched just then.

“Don’t disappoint me you miserable arse!” England muttered. “Go, pokeball!” He hurled the ball into the field with more force than necessary. It snapped open, and red light poured out and morphed into a slender figure. For some reason rose petals fluttered in the breeze when the light faded to reveal an attractive man in a gaudy blue coat.

France. 

Holding a red rose between his fingers. With petals still aflutter around him.

A chorus of awful French laughter prickled Sasuke’s ears. “What's that - his Pokémon cry?” he hissed.

“Sadly yes.”

There were boos and shouts of disapproval from the audience stand (probably because all NPCs carried England's bias).

"Oh please, _Angleterre_ ," France tossed his hair over his shoulder, totally unfazed, "You didn’t have any problems with my voice back in 1904—"

“SILENCE, FROG!” England yelled over him (and did Sasuke imagine it or did the tips of his ears flush pink?), “Do a head-on _petal dance_! Go!”

A whirl of rose-petal shards whipped up around France, giving his body an aura of pink energy. With a flick of his wrist, the petals shot at Gaara like daggers.

“Hit him with _sand tomb_!” Sasuke ordered. Thousands of petals collided with infinitely as many sand particles, producing bullet-screeching sounds. Over and over, dust clouds burst in the air, flinging dust everywhere.

“Keep going at full power!” England yelled across the field, wincing as particles whizzed by his face.

“Give it everything you have, Gaara!”

The two attacks were pumped with even more power than before. The collisions became louder and faster, expanding the dust clouds until the whole field was thoroughly buffeted by petals and sand. Sasuke and England had to shield their faces at that point. When the dust cleared, they looked around the arena anxiously. 

England located France’s position first via his showy outfit. “France!” he couldn’t believe he was saying this, but “use _vine whip_!”

Behind his blue capelet, France pulled out two vine-like whips and leapt at Gaara.

Sasuke’s eyes widened. “Gaara! Defend with _earth dome_!”

But the whips landed a painful-sounding hit before the earth dome could fully form. Gaara was knocked backwards; he landed hard on the ground. Worn and battered, he struggled back to his feet. Pieces of his skin chipped off and dissolved into sand particles.

“Damn.” A bead of sweat rolled down the side of Sasuke’s forehead. This isn’t good. “Gaara’s at a type disadvantage. What do I do?” He eyed France critically, trying to predict England’s next move. 

“Alright!” England declared, if not with a touch of guilt, “Take this opportunity to use _sweet kiss_!”

Hearts swirled around France, pink and bubbly. He placed two fingers to his lips, and blew a very disturbing kiss at his opponent. The hearts proceeded to swirl around Gaara’s head until - he was struck. Silly. 

Silly, as in, there was a ring of rubber ducks dancing around his head and he kept hurting himself in his confusion.

A multitude of emotions played out on Sasuke’s face, all of them falling under the category of 'you’ve got to be joking!?'

Sasuke gritted his teeth, stomping down the urge to growl in frustration. “Gaara!” he called, but it was no use. Gaara had started to wander around, still hurting himself in his confusion. “Snap out of it! Use _sand tomb_!”

But it was clear that Gaara wasn’t going to snap out of his confusion any time soon.

England paused to regard a smug France, “I hate to say this, but good work. Now bombard him with _petal dance_!”

Petals of all colors – red, white, and pink – reeled to the sky and ripped through the stadium. One would have described it as beautiful if those petals weren’t raining down like a volley of lethal spears on a confused target.

Gaara clutched his head and groaned in pain as the petals hit him, which dealt him a good chuck of damage. An earth dome rose from the ground and shielded him for the time being, even though Sasuke didn’t order him to do that

Still, Sasuke cried out, “That’s it! When he runs out of petals, retaliate with your _sand tomb_!”

Eventually, the petals diminished and stopped coming altogether. But Gaara did not come out of his earth dome. In fact, its walls seemed to be hardening and more layers kept piling on.

“Gaara! What’s going on in there? Can you hear me?” Sasuke waited, but there was no response.

On the other side of the field, England looked quite pleased with himself. “Tsk, tsk. Looks like he’s given up.” The audience murmured furiously, held together by the suspense and confusion of the display before them.

Sasuke was about to call Gaara’s name again, but he stopped when the air around Gaara cracked. All of a sudden, the earth dome was completely consumed by a blinding white glow. Everyone on the field had to squeeze their eyes shut.

The light brightened and the cracking sound reverberated around the air. Amazingly, the dome gradually began to morph into a different shape.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Gaara was … evolving?

When the light dimmed, what was left standing in Gaara’s place was a chilling…monster that hardly fit the definition of an evolution. It was a monster with a sand claw for an arm, a sand tail coming out of its back, and bared fangs dripping with saliva. Its back was slouched in an animalistic way and its eyes held a dangerous glint.

A multitude of emotions played out on England’s face, all of them falling under the category of 'you’ve got to be joking?!'

"Oh my." France gulped. He eyed his hideous opponent up and down. Poor boy. "It's what's on the inside that counts, right?"

Sasuke had already recovered enough to retrieve his Pokedex from his jacket pocket. He pressed a button and the corner light began to blink.

_“Shukaku, the one-tailed demon beast. It evolves from its previous form, Gaara, when put under immense physical and psychological stress. It’s characteristic sand gourd is the main support of its sand tail, said to be capable of smashing through a dozen trees in one swipe.”_

Sasuke pressed a button and scrolled through the list of moves.

“Interesting…” Sasuke’s eyes lit up, pocketing the device. He lifted his arm and pointed straight at a paling France. “Prove your strength to me, Shukaku! Use _earthquake_!”

The ground beneath Shukaku’s feet cracked with sickening snap. The cracks multiplied and spread out, wider and wider, deeper and deeper, until the entire stadium shook with terrifying internal tremors, even causing some of the audience members to jolt.

England’s blood ran cold. They was helpless. “Run, France! Run like you do when the enemy is about to invade! RUN!”

France ran. Like hell. 

And he actually covered an admirable distance, England could testify. But the ground began to split apart, and those cracks mercilessly gained on him like an underground juggernaut.

A scream of terror of was all France could utter before the earth swallowed him whole. 

* * *

This shouldn't have ended the way it did.

England didn't know what came over himself. When the dust cleared, he furiously dug at the ground with his bare hands until he found strands of golden hair. France, that lousy idiot - he had the gall, the audacity to pass out on him! He tugged the other nation up by the collar.

“Wake up, damn you! You're better than this!"

France's head lolled up and down as England shook him.

“Sorry about your boyfriend." Sasuke said after a long pause, examining his nails.

England let go. They all heard France's limp body drop to the ground.

“E-" he choked. "EXCUSE YOU!!?"

“Sorry. Your ex-boyfriend."

Ah, Sasuke had hit a nerve there.

* * *

SHUKAKU [GROUND] VS ~~FRANCE~~ [GRASS/POISON]  
SASUKE 2 : ENGLAND 1 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *sprinkles in some ship tease* *gets secondhand embarrassment*


	4. Spanner in the Works

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasuke and England watched the ground desperately. It all came down to who was faster.

A red light sprang out into the heap of rocks and returned a very disheveled, very unconscious France back into his pokeball. This spoke volumes on Shukaku’s strength, since France was supposed to rival England's own power level.

England gave Sasuke a nasty look. “Alright. That’s it.” 

He spun the next pokeball in his hand, weighing the strategies in his mind. He then boldly tossed it out into the field. “I choose you!”

The sudden chill in the atmosphere was accompanied by the fluttering of a light pink scarf. 

Russia smiled. “You called?”

“Yes, in fact, I _did_ call you,” England tried to shake off an uneasy feeling of déjà vu. “Thankfully it was intended this time. Now see that… thing in front of you?”

Eerily, seeing Shukaku’s snarling and hissing form, Russia’s blink curiously.

“Yes, I see.”

“Buffet it with _hail_ , I say!”

Russia’s body began to glow in a sinister gray. From the waves of energy that shrouded him arose a pale spirit with empty, chilling eyes. According to an urban legend, he is known as General Winter. The icy spirit spread his arms up towards the darkening sky, which emitted a hollow rumble in response.

Specks of snow started to fall into the stadium. Then the specks became chunks of ice, and soon they came down harder and less forgiving, like a raging round of arrow fire. Gusts of wind blew into the stadium and the mix of snow and hail continued to pour down relentlessly. Russia was not affected (of course). The chunks of ice bounced off his shoulders like ping pong balls. 

“Damn you. It’s f-freezing!” Sasuke shriveled his arms around his chest. “You just had to bring out an ice type, didn’t you!” 

England’s old man cackle was silenced by a face-full of icy wind. “I suppose I’m just f-full of surprises!” England said through chattering teeth. “And that would be a dual ice/dark type, f-f-for your information.”

Sasuke noticed that Shukaku was being damaged by the hail as they spoke. “Finish him quickly, Shukaku!” he shouted through another gust of wind, “Attack with _earthquake_!”

England reacted fast. “Dodge with _faint attack_!”

Russia faded into the shadows before the cracks in the ground could reach him. Alarmed, Shukaku twisted its head left and right frantically. Out of nowhere, Russia reappeared besides it and struck a blow to its shoulder. Crying out in pain, Shukaku blindly lashed at Russia with its sand claw. But Russia had already retreated a safe distance away.

“Keep using _faint attack_! Aim at different angles!” England commanded, followed closely by Sasuke, “Dodge them!”

A series of dark streaks disappeared and reappeared around Shukaku. Each time it tried to dodge the attack, Russia snuck an attack through its blind spot. The pouring hail proved to be especially bothersome, both damaging Shukaku and camouflaging Russia’s movements.

“Faint attack is impossible to dodge, you fool!” England mocked, blowing white puffs of air through his inflamed nostrils. “And in that state, Russia is absolutely untouchable!”

“You really like that word, don’t you…”

“Absolutely!” England yelled back.

Meanwhile, Russia continued his attacks. Weakened and battered, Shukaku barely had energy left to swipe after Russia’s disappearing form. It was all in all very frustrating – not unlike the infamous ‘hit-and-run’ guerrilla warfare. Sasuke took this time to observe Russia closely. After the seventh faint attack, he spotted a dark streak approaching Shukaku’s back. Sasuke’s eyes narrowed at the opportunity.

“Swish your tail backwards—now!”

 _What?_ flashed across England’s mind.

Russia made a surprised grunt when Shukaku’s dense tail collided with his chest. He was thrown off balance but managed to land on his feet, knees bent. The shadow on his forehead darkened considerably as he chanted darkly to himself. England’s side of the crowd cheered.

“Not bad, for an improvised move.” England remarked while rubbing his freezing hands together. “But you know, I have some moves up my own sleeve.” The look he had in those green eyes was worrisome.

“ _Blizzard_.”

Sasuke suddenly found himself hyperaware of everything - the numbness of his ears and cheeks, the roaring of the freezing wind, the way the snow and ice formed a glowing veil around Russia, and how the icy debris floated in midair right before they shot for Shukaku.

He barely had the breath to yell out, “Shield yourself with earth dome!” before they hit.

Sasuke heard the sharp clang of ice scrapping against – rock. He sighed in relief. When the cryptal powder cleared, he was greeted with the sight of Shukaku’s familiar earth dome, sturdy and stilling standing.

England spoke up, “That barrier won’t help, you know. Staying in the same spot without moving in a blizzard is the quickest way to perish.” Snow and wind eagerly pelted the walls of the earth dome, seeming to back his point. “You can escape our attacks, but you can’t escape the cold!”

Sasuke glared heatedly at England. He refused to falter.

“Fine. So be it.” England turned to address Russia. “Seeing as it won’t come out, we’ll have to force it out ourselves.” He snapped his finger towards the earth dome. “Use _fling_!”

Russia reached into the sleeve of his long coat and pulled out—what else could it be—his signature metal pipe. It glistened as he raised it above his head. Smiling wide, he hurled it at Shukaku. The pipe whirled through the snow and wind in a streak of dark purple, promising a very ugly collision.  
  
“ _Dig_! Now!” Sasuke yelled through the wind.

The pipe crashed into the earth dome, shattering it into pieces. But when the dust cleared, it was empty.

England was caught off guard for a moment. With narrowed eyes, he saw the open hole peeking out from beneath the debris. “So that’s your play!” He huffed, his determination not dashed. “Shoot your _icebeam_ into that hole, Russia! Freeze the whole ground solid!”

Russia leapt to where England pointed to. A beam of icy blue glowed from his cupped palms. He shot a powerful ice beam into the hole. It crystallized into a thick layer of ice in its depts. 

“Shukaku, use _earthquake_!” Sasuke responded, stepping forward, “Give it everything you have, go full power!” 

Meanwhile, the ground rumbled from deep within. The shaking was much stronger than before. Super chilled wisps of vapor emerged through the cracks, indicating that at the same time, the temperature underground was dropping dangerously fast.

Sasuke and England watched the ground desperately. It all came down to who was faster.

A rumbling sound emerged from under Russia’s feet. Everybody tensed. Russia stepped back just as the ground came completely undone; pieces collapsed and uneven slabs split apart violently. Chunks of earth towered over Russia, attempting to crush him. England held his breath.

But just as quickly they scattered into lifeless dust. The smoke cleared to reveal Shukaku burrowed underneath the rubble. It was frozen solid. 

Russia approached his unconscious opponent and paused to pick up his metal pipe. He smiled. “Looks like I am victorious…yes?”

The last of the earth crumbled. Icy vapor rose like mist from Shukaku’s body.

Sasuke cursed. Shukaku had made it too late. England had finally relax, seeing the spirals spinning in the monster’s once bloodlust eyes. He ran a hand though his hair, sighing. “That was close.”

* * *

~~SHUKAKU~~ [GROUND] VS RUSSIA [DARK/ICE]  
SASUKE 2: ENGLAND 2


	5. The Comically Serious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, England’s pokedex warned him to never question the contents of that book. 

“Come back, Shukaku.” Sasuke said as a red light bounced Shukaku back into its pokeball. England held out a pokeball and did the same with Russia.

Seeing Sasuke’s surprise, England explained, “He needs to rest. And besides,” he shrugged, “getting rid of this awful weather would do us all some good.”

As soon as Russia’s form morphed into a red orb and clasped shut inside his pokeball, the hail subsided. The clouds cleared away and bright sunlight poured into the stadium once again.

“Hm…” Sasuke mumbled distractedly. He was still rummaging through his pouch, deciding who to pick next. England also had a pokeball ready in his hand when Sasuke looked up. Now thoroughly thawed, they felt a rush of energy renewed in their veins.

Both trainers tossed their pokeballs into the air, and judging by the crowd’s reaction, things have just started to heat up!

Two blobs of red light bounced onto the field, their glows fading. On England’s side stood Germany, which Sasuke’s pokedex identified as a formidable steel type known for his efficiency and raw strength.

On Sasuke’s side stood - or rather, squatted, Kakashi, who had his face buried in a small orange book. For some reason, England’s pokedex warned him to never question the contents of that book. 

Having been disrupted by the noise, Kakashi looked up from his book. He looked from the thousands of cheering faces blurred together to Germany to England and finally to Sasuke, behind him.

And blinked once.

“…As your teacher, I should probably be worried if this is what you call ‘training.’” His half-lidded eye returned to the pages of his book. “But honestly, I don’t want to know.” 

“Better if you don’t,” Sasuke deadpanned. 

“And while you two are busy chatting, I’ll go first!” England declared impatiently. He swiped a hand out and declared, “Germany, use _bullet punch_!”

Germany let out a German (read: manly) battle cry and raised his silver fist at an unperturbed Kakashi.

“Dodge it!” yelled Sasuke.

“Mm.” Kakashi moved out of the way so fast he became a blur of speed lines. Before anyone could blink, he had materialized six paces from his original spot, retaining his squatting-while-reading position. And still looking bored.

Sasuke frowned. “Oi, Kakashi! How about taking this a little more seriously!”

Kakashi flipped a page, distracted. “Hang on, I’m almost done with this chapter…” 

“Kakashi…” Sasuke’s eye twitched.

England huffed and glanced at Germany, who was wearing that exasperated expression he usually wears. “Hmph. Doesn’t make a difference to me if he’s more interested in his wank material. “Now use _iron head!_ ”

Germany’s forehead became cloaked in a veil of silver energy. He left behind a trail of parting dust as he vigorously charged ahead. When he was starting to gain speed, Sasuke yelled out to Kakashi, “Face it head on with charge beam!”

Kakashi let out an irritated sigh and fired a pathetic little spark at Germany with his index finger. Before Sasuke could curse, Kakashi’s body morphed into an electric current that tackled Germany to the ground – and then bounced back into Sasuke’s pouch. 

Sasuke had trouble forming words. “ _Volt switch_?!” he accused the pokeball he had dug out of his pouch angrily. “Get back in the battle, you lazy ass!” 

Kakashi was disappointed to see the Pokémon stadium, Germany, England, and Sasuke again when he looked up again.

“Must I?” he looked at his seething student / wannabe Pokémon trainer.

“Yes.” Sasuke hissed, ignoring the pout Kakashi was making under his mask, “Or I will come to your house at night and set fire to your entire Icha Icha collection. And that’s a promise.”

Kakashi pocketed his book. “…so I must.” He finally stood up, shifting into a battle position. 

“ _Charge beam_ , now!”

Electricity sparked to life under Kakashi’s palms. 

“Quick! _Iron defense_! You can take the hit!” England retorted. Germany braced himself, his defense secured with the protective coating of energy that flared from his body. The heels of his military boots scrapped into the ground as he withstood the electric beam.

“Go after him with _bulldoze_!” England’s continued.

Germany stomped in place to build up energy and then began to charge at Kakashi. The latter neatly dodged by jumping in midair. He fired another charge beam at Sasuke’s command. Germany easily dodged to the side.

“Not so fast!” England cut in, “Jump and use _iron head_!”

Taking advantage of his bulldoze attack, Germany used the extra power to launch himself airborne. His iron head collided with Kakashi’s chest in a loud crunch – a critical hit! Stunned, with his breath knocked out of him, Kakashi was about to crash right into the ground when Sasuke’s voice rang out:

“Use _discharge_ , now!”

The stadium was blinded for a moment by a yellow sphere that glowed from Kakashi’s chest. The attack cushioned Kakashi’s landing and damaged Germany at the same time. But Germany was too far to sustain major damage. He returned to his battle position, ready for more.

“Bravo.” England jeered, “Hadn’t expected that last-minute save.”

“You’re getting rusty if you hadn’t expected that, old man.” Sasuke said dryly.

“Old man?” England exclaimed, deeply offended. “The nerve! Germany – knock ‘em out of the bloody stadium with another _iron head_!”

“Activate your Sharingan!” Sasuke alerted Kakashi, “Read his movements before he gets to you!”

Germany was able to pass within a close range of Kakashi, but missed his target when Kakashi twisted his body away at the last second. Germany caught a glimpse of Kakashi’s swirling red eye as they passed each other. 

“ _Thunder punch_!” Sasuke called out. Kakashi gathered up an electric current in his palm. He curled it into a fist and swung his arm back, aimed for Germany’s head. 

“Catch that punch!” cried England. Waves of electricity jolted through Germany’s body, but he held Kakashi’s fist firm in his hand.

Sasuke inhaled sharply, not expecting such a gutsy move.

“ _Bullet punch_ , now!” England shook his fist in the air for emphasis as Germany swung a punch at Kakashi, now trapped in his grasp.

“Catch it!” cut in Sasuke’s voice, making Kakashi jerk his other hand up to block the punch. “Overpower him! Push him back!”

Kakashi’s tightened his grip on Germany’s hands and struggled to push him back. Germany, in turn, pushed back with just as much effort, his teeth clenched. 

Knowing that his teacher will not be able to hold it up much longer, Sasuke went ahead, yelling, “Kakashi, use _discharge_ again! Grab onto Germany and don’t let him go!”

Germany let out a surprised grunt when the hands pushing against his own loosened and tightly gripped his wrists.

“ _Iron head_ him before he gets a chance to attack!” But England’s response was too late. Germany was blown back from the discharge that blasted from Kakashi’s chest.

Germany skidded onto the ground with a rolling thud. “Ng-” he winced, stiffening. Electric sparks tingled throughout his body when he tried to stand back up.

“Don’t tell me,” England’s eyes widened, “he’s paralyzed.”

Sasuke did not waste another second. “Finish him off with _volt tackle_!” Kakashi shot towards Germany in a burst of electricity. The air along his path sizzled and cracked, echoing around the stadium like the sound of a thousand birds chirping. Germany tried to move out of the way, but he couldn’t. 

The last thing he saw before he blacked out was a blinding yellow.

* * *

KAKASHI [ELECTRIC] VS ~~GERMANY~~ [STEEL]  
SASUKE 3: ENGLAND 2


	6. Famous Last Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi came out of it feeling like he was going through three midlife crises at once.

Sasuke was pleased with the spirals spinning in Germany’s eyes. “Another one down. That means we’re both tied with three left.” He watched England silently fume on the other side of the stadium.

England didn’t think Germany would go down so easily – out of all the nations he was both strong and intelligent, though he loathed to admit it. 

“So what’ll it be?”

“Kindly shut up, or I’ll have to resort to drastic measures.” England seethed, holding out a pokeball to withdraw Germany. “You and your youngster ways are getting on my nerves.”

Sasuke was quick to remind England that using “youngsters” in a sentence meant that he is, in fact, old.

“Boy! That is far from the poin—”

“He’s right, you know.” Kakashi cut him off, having been forgotten for some time, “Only old people say youngsters.”

“Don’t butt in!” England glared so fiercely Kakashi burrowed his nose back in his book.

“And what would these ‘drastic measures’ be?” Sasuke taunted.

England grabbed another pokeball and weighed it in his hand. His voice was low. “Winning.”

The ball was tossed into the air, spinning until the red light poured out into the arena. 

“ _Privyet_ , you called again?” said familiar voice in a Russian accent.

The corner of Sasuke’s lips twitched upwards. “I see… the only way I can respond to that is,”

With a jerk of his hand, Sasuke yelled to Kakashi, “Go! _Charge beam_ , now!”

“Ha!” England held his nose up with a sneer, “ _Ice beam_!”

The two beams – one insanely hot and one insanely cold – met each other half-way. The result was a violent, sizzling explosion. Foul smoke blasted the two ends of the stadium. Sasuke covered his mouth to ease his coughing. England looked for Russia within the blanket of gry fog.

Sasuke coughed and as loud as he can, yelled, “Activate your Sharingan, Kakashi! Locate the enemy’s position and use _thunder punch_ when you’re in a close range!”

England’s eyes darted rapidly through the smoke. He was panicking. He couldn’t see anything. Neither could Sasuke, but it made no difference because Kakashi could see Russia, his blasted Sharingan be damned!

Then an idea hit him - one so crazy it just might work.

“Listen closely, Russia! Prepare another ice beam – but aim it at the ground, then spin!” England could hear the crackling of Kakashi’s attack in the distance. “Whatever you do, don’t stop spinning!”

Layers of fresh ice swept across the floor of the arena. The sound of Kakashi’s bewildered exclamation followed, just as the fog cleared.

“What?” Sasuke stared. Kakashi’s sparking fist had been an arm’s length from Russia when he slipped on the ice and swerved off course.

Russia skillfully slid away to a safe distance. Apparently, he could navigate through the ice like an Olympic figure skater.

“Unbelievable.” Sasuke shook his head. “Making an ice rink, of all things. Have you lost your—”

“I’m going to have to interrupt you there, as I’m not quite done yet.” England cut in. He turned his attention back to Russia, “Attack with _dark pulse_!” 

An ominous purple aura pulsed from under Russia, causing a black outline to form around his body. Put the adjectives together however you want – eerily creepy, freakishly eerie – it was still at least ten times that. Add that to Russia’s sickly sweet smile and you’ve got a seriously messed up attack. 

Kakashi tried to evade it, but the ice on the ground ruined any attempts that. Kakashi ended up taking the full wrath of Russia's _dark pulse._ He came out of it feeling like he was going through three midlife crises at once.

“Wow. You know, this is… depressing.” Kakashi droned, looking around the stadium distractedly. “These negative thoughts are really depressing. Maybe I’m not fit to battle.” He gave Sasuke a pitiful look. “Switch me out?”

Sasuke’s lips flattened into a thin, humorless line. “No. You’re not even suffering from a status condition. Now go crush that oversized snowflake! Use _slam_!”

With a heavy sigh, Kakashi threw himself back in the fray.

“Dodge with _faint attack_!”

Russia veered to the side in shadowy blur. The glow of Kakashi’s raised fists faded; he looked around, trying to predict Russia's next move. A shadow streak snuck up on him from behind. He noticed it and dodged. But they kept coming, each one faster than the one before. Until he was finally hit in the back of his head, and then again in the torso.

“Come on!” Sasuke pushed, “Concentrate on a _discharge_!” Kakashi closed his eye and focused on gathering energy to the center of his body. Electricity pulsed through him, and the next time Russia reappeared from the shadows to strike, Kakashi released it.

Russia let out a pained gasp at the power of the blast. Upon impact, he was thrown back and collided violently with the stadium wall. Dazed, he struggled to stand back up.

Sasuke was now confident that victory was his. “Go! Finish him off with _charge beam_!”

“Damn it, Russia!” England exclaimed. Kakashi’s yellow beam seared past his vision. “You have to move – _move_ , now!” He was yelling and gesturing wildly at Russia when his eyes lowered and his eyebrows rose.

He realized it just in time.

“Russia! _Fling_ your pipe _up_!”

Kakashi’s charge beam was so close Russia could feel hair strands sizzling. But his pipe came between them, taking all the electricity with it, as it whooshed into the sky. Somewhere in the distance, the crowd cheered.

On England’s command of “ _Dark pulse!_ ” Russia charged at Kakashi, who was wide open. The black rings hit him head on.

There wasn’t an inch left in Kakashi’s body that wasn’t full of negative thoughts, especially not after the way his head hit the ground. Even England spared a shudder at that.

Sasuke stood staring disbelievingly at the swirls spinning in place of Kakashi’s eye. Then he realized what had happened.

The pipe.

Of course. The two-meter long pipe made of _metal_.

Metal that conducted electricity like nobody’s business. He lost because of science? 

* * *

~~KAKASHI~~ [ELECTRIC] VS RUSSIA [DARK/ICE]  
SASUKE 3: ENGLAND 3


	7. Darker and Edgier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> England tried to push back the sense of impending doom. But having not one – but two – notoriously frightening characters on the field was overkill for his nerves.

A red light surrounded Kakashi, bringing him back into his pokeball. Sasuke not-so-gently shoved it into his pouch.

“This isn’t over yet,” he glowered across the field.

“Tsk, tsk!” England gloated in a singsong-y tone. “Is that a whiff of wounded pride I smell?”

“You’re going to pay for this…” Sasuke mumbled darkly.

England cackled. His sunny expression, however, faltered when Sasuke pulled out another pokeball in his hand. A worrisome shadow had formed behind his bangs.

He didn’t say a thing as he tossed the ball out. 

England broke into a cold sweat when he was met with a cloaked man that bore a striking resemblance to his trainer.

“Oh, dear god.” He whispered in horror.

“You better win this.” Sasuke said to his brother, his features hard.

Itachi gave Sasuke a cold, half-lidded glance over his shoulder. “Foolish little brother, you are not ready to be a Pokémon master. You lack… hatred.”

“Don’t _start_ with me.” Sasuke snapped. “Just take him out. I swear over your dead body, I will deal with you later.”

Itachi retreated back into his long collar, silent. The edges of the mysterious black and red cloak swayed with the wind. England tried to push back the sense of impending doom. But having not one – but two – notoriously frightening characters on the field was overkill for his nerves.

“Let me guess. Ghost / dark?” England wrestled to keep a straight face.

“Hn.” replied both Uchihas on the same note. 

“The only type combination that has no advantage...” England slowly inhaled and turned to Russia. “Okay, Russia. This isn’t looking good for us, but you’ll survive.” But he hated how doubtful he felt as he said it. “Maybe.”

Sasuke crossed his arms and tapped a finger. “ _Mean look_. Go.” 

Nothing of Itachi moved except the closing and opening his eyes. Yet the visual was stunning – a burst of swirling red eyes that locked onto Russia. A huge shadow of a Sharingan eye appeared, and Russia was trapped in the middle of it. The colors swirling in the eye inversed along with Russia. With a flash, and a strange snapping sound, it was gone. Russia was now sealed to the field.

“No matter. I wasn’t planning to switch him out anyways.” England yelled, pointing a finger forward. “ _Ice beam_ , now!”

“You’re going to wish you could when I’m through with you,” said Sasuke, “Itachi, use _flame burst_!” 

England felt like he was going to faint on the spot. And here he had thought Russia would survive being resistant to both ghost and dark types. But Itachi’s fire easily seared through Russia’s ice. The wall of ice beam like melted like butter and headed straight for Russia himself.

“Dodge it!” 

Russia swerved aside but was hit by one of the flames that went astray. He stumbled, looking despairingly at the hole burnt through the ends of his scarf.

“Hang in there, Russia!” England assured. But what now? Sweat trickled down his neck at the thought that ice-type moves would be useless now.

Sasuke swished his hand forth, “Get close, then trap him in a genjutsu!” 

Swift as a cold-blooded machine, Itachi snuck up to Russia and gazed straight into his wide violet eyes. Russia was suddenly thrust into a twisted realm, his senses assaulted with blood splatters, morphing shadows, body horror - psychological torture meant to drive anyone to the breaking point.

“No!” England watched Russia’s pipe drop to the ground with a deafening clang.

“Follow up with another _flame burst!_ ” 

Itachi drew in a breath, then froze.

It started out as a twitch from a finger that spasmed up Russia’s arm. _Thwack!_ He slapped his own face, once, then twice. The fact that his blank eyes turned back to normal was so shocking that Itachi stopped his attack. 

“Is that all?” Russia was nonchalant as he went to pick up his pipe. “Scary visions do not work on me. They are average day for me.”

The atmosphere in the stadium rose, growing with shock, elation. Sasuke stared at Russia like he was crazy, which he was. To shrug off a genjutsu from the the world’s best genjutsu user… that’s absurd! England felt his personal respect for Russia triple. No one else could have done it.

He shook his head. Time to focus on his next move.

“Let’s continue! Russia, _faint attack!_ ” 

Russia blended into the shadows and darted out of harm from the onslaught of flame bursts. He materialized behind Itachi and made a move to strike.

But Sasuke was faster, “ _Dark pulse!_ ” and Russia was instantly pounded by waves of negative energy.

“While he’s stunned, Sasuke continued, “hit him with _will-o-wisp!_ ”

Now England really felt like he was going to faint when violet-red orbs gathered from Itachi’s outstretched palms. One by one, they floated towards Russia. 

“Aim your _ice beam_ at them!” England yelled, desperate to keep Russia from getting burned. Sasuke frowned when the _will-o-wisps_ dissolved into icy dust from the attack. “Good! Now use _hail!_ ”

“Use _shadow ball_ on him before the hail can form!”

Itachi lifted his arm and hurled a series of dark blobs at Russia, who barely managed to jump out of their paths. He was bigger compared to the other nations, so he wasn’t as nimble with his reflects. 

“Now use your speed to circle him!”

England eagerly watched the clouds above darken and waited for the hail to build up. He knew it was Russia’s only chance. But Itachi was now dashing in circles around Russia, becoming a dark blur to the audience’s eyes. It was getting harder to dodge the speeding shadow balls, even with the protection of the hail and the advantage of the ice on the ground. Russia cowered as another dark blob seared past his ear.

The wind was picking up; icy gusts fanned the stadium. England shivered, but part of it was from excitement. Dodging another shadow ball, Russia retreated into the center of the storm. There, the combination of hail and snow was impossible to see through, safe for Itachi’s swirling eyes.

Suddenly, a shadow ball shot down and hit Russia square in the chest. The ice on the ground shattered from the impact of his collapse.

“No!” England gasped. 

Even Sasuke was surprised. That had to have been his brother’s impeccable aiming. He glanced across at him, standing tall and stoic. When he looked carefully, he saw Itachi’s eyes narrow a hair. He was staring into the snowy depths of the storm, where Russia lay unmoving. It was over.

Or… was it?

England thought he heard something that sent shivers down his spine. Within the icy mist rising from Russia was the face of General Winter. Its hollow eyes flashed something like twisted delight.

Everyone in the stadium, including Sasuke, Itachi, and England, watched Russia mechanically rise to his feet. The people in the audience stared and gaped in shock. Something was wrong with the way Russia ignored the storm pounding at his body. Like he didn’t consciously feel it. Like he was...one with it.

 _That thing..._ Sasuke thought back to Gaara as General Winter formed a glowing veil over Russia. _is like his inner demon._

 _It’s Russia’s last resort for survival…_ England thought wildly at the same time.

He inhaled a breath of cold air, sharp enough to be painful. An idea dawned on him. 

“Russia! K-k-keep up with _blizzard!_ ” he called, his mind reeling.

He didn’t know if Russia even heard him in state he was in, but nonetheless the chunks of hail began to double in size and number, pouring down from the sky relentlessly. Sasuke held onto his hat and folded his arms together. A powerful gust of wind nearly blew off half the stadium. England’s hands were already numb; and he could feel the feeling in his arms slipping away. Meanwhile, Itachi swiftly maneuvered out of range of the storm. 

“ _Shadow ball_ , now!” Sasuke followed up, exhaling a shuddering white puff.

Itachi dashed around the eye of the storm – Russia – mirroring the same strategy as before, only he kept a larger radius. Shadow balls shot into the mix of snow and hail from all sides, disappearing into the white chaos.

They froze before they could touch Russia. One by one, they fell at Russia’s feet as chucks of ice.

Both Uchihas stiffened. The audience let out a collective gasp. 

It was at this moment, England understood the slightly-crazed glee in General Winter’s eyes. He smirked to himself. When he spoke, there was not a trace of sound in the arena save the howling wind.

“ _Blizzard_ , again.”

The cycle of pounding hail, snow, wind, and ice kept repeating. Soon, the storm expanded to cover every inch of the stadium, leaving even those in the audience sitting in the back row scrunching up at the biting cold.

Sasuke felt dizzy. It’s as if the numbness was spreading to his brain. 

He shivered violently. “Come on!” He yelled furiously at England, “Attack us already, or call off the blizzard! What are you trying to do - freeze us all to death?”

But England had his cracked lips pressed together. And even though they were turning blue, he would not tell Russia to stop for the world. It was clear Russia was not going to stop, either. He was wrapped up in the center of the deadly storm, protected and unreachable.

Sasuke bit back a curse. He turned his attention to Itachi.

Even though he was far from the source, Itachi was taking a lot of damage from the hail. He was growing weaker with each turn the blizzard raged while (infuriatingly) Russia remained unreachable and immune to the cold.

“Stop it!” yelled Sasuke.

“Why should I, when I’m about to win?” said England.

“What?”

And every one of Sasuke’s resolves fell apart at England reply:

“The scorched earth policy.” His voice was scratchy from the cold, but it was thick with triumph. “It’s simply this: Nothing can outlast the cold when we’ve destroyed all your means of survival. Not Napoleon’s army. Not that sand monster’s self-protective barrier.” He shrugged, and found the heart to spare Sasuke a knowing look. “Not even your perfect brother.” 

Sasuke glanced at Itachi. His brother wasn’t even trying to hide the pain he was in now, grimacing as the hail pounded him.

“We’ll see about that.” Sasuke said quietly, more to himself than England, and hated how unsure he sounded. 

Unsure or not, he had to do something. 

It was now a game of survival. And the number one thing needed to survive in the cold was... Sasuke’s heart raced.

“ _Flame burst_ beneath you, now!” Before the command was even finished, Itachi inhaled and blew out a brilliant orange flame through his puffed cheeks.

Even from where Sasuke stood, he felt the warm glow ease away the numbness of his face.

He cocked an eyebrow at England. “How’s that?”

“Nice try.” England sounded amused. “But it’s futile.” 

Sasuke looked back to the scene before him. The fire-type move had definitely helped Itachi last somewhat longer, but it was diminishing faster than a candle. The heat it gave off had melted the snow and hail around it into water. Ironically, it was putting itself out. His eyes widened as he remembered England’s words.

It didn’t matter where he commanded Itachi to aim the fire. The blizzard was everywhere. The warmth will last as long as it takes for the snow to melt and put it out.

Itachi’s flame burst finally went out, and so did Sasuke’s chances of winning this match.

“Time to finish this.” England addressed Russia with a nod. “Charge at him with all you’ve got! _Ice beam!_ ”

Neither Sasuke or Itachi had time to react as the air crystallized. The beam seared through the storm like a laser. It shot into Itachi’s chest, knocking the breath of him. His back collided with the outer wall with an echoing thud. He fell, face-down, to the ground.

A couple beats of silence, the blizzard raged, and England relaxed. The crowd went wild. What an astonishing win!

In the midst the deafening noise, Sasuke brought up a hand to rub his temples. 

England shrunk away from the glow of victory for a second at his opponent’s blank expression.

“Do you _any_ idea how traumatizing it is to see him lying there?” Sasuke was furious and looked slightly nauseous. He might have actually thrown up if Itachi had been face-up with those ridiculous swirls in his eyes.

“Well you shouldn’t have brought him out in the first place!” England huffed, shaking off a tiny pang of guilt. “Oh, come on, don’t ruin the this with your teen angst - ”

“My _tragic back story_ ,” Sasuke hissed, “is not to be mocked or mentioned ever again in my presence.”

England shut his mouth.

* * *

~~ITACHI~~ [GHOST/DARK] VS RUSSIA [DARK/ICE]

SASUKE 3: ENGLAND 4 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Russia is like the MVP of this fic, hahaha~


	8. Third Act Stupidity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You must be out of your mind if you’re bringing him out.” England said, aghast.

After taking a few deep breathes, Sasuke returned back to his cool and unfazed self. Itachi was returned to his ball without another glance. England allowed his shoulders to relax, but they tightened as his mind began thinking again. Russia’s storm had minimized to a point that flicks of snow fell and the sun cast a muted shine.

That meant Russia had used too much energy in that last round. So using the scorched earth policy again was out of the question. He was down to less than half his HP. And plus - Russia can’t be switched out because of Itachi’s mean look. 

Sasuke rubbed his thumb over the pokeball he had decided on. England had already used Russia to take out three on his team – the nerve of that guy – so he shouldn’t risk underestimating him. But his next choice was a huge risk in itself… should he go for it?

His hand tightened around the pokeball.

Decision made, he flung the ball unapologetically out onto the arena. 

The red light solidified after a few moments of wobbling. To everyone’s confusion, a boyish voice sang, “Time to eat! Itadakimasu~” Naruto’s eyes popped open just as his drool was about to spill over. “Huh?” His palms were empty. He shrieked, his eyes bulging into something that resembled comical dinner plates.

“You must be out of your mind if you’re bringing him out.” England said, aghast. But he wasn’t the only one to regard the newcomer with distaste. 

“Oi.”

Naruto perked up at the familiar voice of his teammate. “Sasuke!” he whipped around, furious, “What happened to my cup noodles and-" he squinted, "what's with that _outfit_?” 

“Naruto.”

Naruto paused, his mouth still hanging ajar. 

“I am in the middle of something, if that hadn’t registered through your thick skull yet.”

Naruto blinked when he noticed the thousands of people in the audience. “W-what’s going on here?” Many, including Russia (disturbing as it is), stifled a laugh. “Are we in a genjutsu?”

“No time to explain,” Sasuke insisted. “Don’t ask questions and do what I say.”

“Why do I have to listen to the likes of you?” 

“What did I say about questions?” Sasuke scowled and glanced across the field. “Now hurry and do what I say!”

“Or what?” 

Sasuke was steadily watching what Naruto couldn’t see coming from behind, “Or your skull will split open in three, two...”

Naruto jerked around in time to see Russia towering over him with a raised pipe. With a high pitched yelp, he threw himself to the side right as Russia’s pipe came crashing down. He gaped in terror while Russia smiled darkly at him over his shoulder. “Ah, I missed.” 

Naruto was still scrambling back onto his feet when England, impatient as always, carried on his offense: “Use _fling_ again!”

Russia slowly and meticulously retrieved his pipe. He even took the time to pat the dirt off its handle, humming as he did so. Abruptly, he flung his pipe at Naruto.

Naruto froze in place, eyes widening in panic. “Dodge, then use _quick attack_!” Sasuke’s voice finally reached him. Snapping out of it, he rolled out of the way and (to everyone’s surprise) landed a solid hit on Russia’s backside. An “oomph” was heard before the dust from the impact of the pipe cleared. The white glow from Naruto’s body faded as soon as he landed with bent knees, his back to Sasuke.

Naruto’s face split into a grin at the attention he was getting from the crowds. 

“Good.” Sasuke nodded. England looked extra annoyed now. “Then I take you’ll listen when I say,” swiping his hand out, he cried out, “use _water shuriken!_ ”

Naruto concentrated on drawing moisture in the air to his palms. The crowd erupted in cheers when he swung a pair of aqua, four-edged stars. They came flying at Russia from left and right, slicing up his coat, leaving him wet and wobbly.

“ _Fling_ your pipe at him!” 

“Dodge it!” Sasuke cut in, not missing a beat. Naruto dove to the side again. He blinked in confusion and looked to where the pipe landed. It was thrown so clumsily he barely needed to dodge it – 

Unless… Sasuke was thinking along the same line. _A distraction?_

Russia came in from behind as Naruto turned his attention away from the pipe.

“ _Ice beam_ , now!” England yelled. 

Naruto barely had time to cover his chest with his arms before a wall of ice slammed into him. He staggered backwards almost tripping over his own feet. With a shuddering “brrr!” he shook off the ice that clung to his hair-spikes.

“Come on, you can do better than that!” 

“Shut u—” Naruto yelped as he was blindsided by another round of ice beams. Sasuke rolled his eyes. “And pay attention.”

Shooting chucks of ice in every direction, Russia was slowly backing Naruto into a corner of the stadium.

“Nowhere else to hide. It’s over.” England said confidently now that he has the upper-hand. “Finish him with _dark pulse_!”

“As if!” Sasuke turned his razor-sharp gaze on his teammate. “Jump onto that wall! Then launch yourself over with _quick attack_!” Just as Russia released the onslaught of negative energy, Naruto kicked off of one face of the wall and shot over Russia in a dash of white energy. He was falling in midair when Sasuke called out to him, “ _Double team_ , now!”

Naruto felt elated. “Now you’re speaking my language!” His voice was layered two-fold, then three-fold, then – too many folds to count. He exchanged a knowing look with Sasuke before his clones landed with him on the ground. Russia stared in confusion at the army of Narutos sticking their tongues out at him. He grew many shades paler when they began to form a tight circle around him.

In just that split second, Naruto had reverse their positions. Russia was now the cornered one!

England bite back a curse. _They’re in better sync than I thought!_

“Attack them all with _ice beam_!” he yelled, but it was in vain. Russia molded ball after ball of glowing blue energy in his palms and shot a few Narutos down. But there were still too many. England’s jaw tightened. “In that case, get out of there with _faint attack_!” 

“Don’t let him escape!” Sasuke cut in, “All of you, _air slash_!”

The army of Narutos rushed towards Russia as speed lines. They reappeared next to Russia in his shadowy state and hit him with multiple, steadfast silver slashes. Russia fell into a disoriented heap on the ground with a groan. It takes a lot to knock someone with such high defense down – but Sasuke knew with so many clones Naruto could do it.

Now Sasuke lowered the brim of his hat to capture the classic ‘shit just got serious’ stance. That got England’s attention.

Above the deafening cheer of the crowd, Sasuke’s voice rang out:

“Finish him with _hurricane!_ ”

Naruto drew energy into his palms. The air seemed to bend under his control as silver winds danced in shreds around him. He stepped forward. His posture tensed, and suddenly the torrent of energy was set free. For Russia, it was like being simultaneously hit with a train while being tossed around in a washing machine. His body was pounded with winds from every direction.

Afterwards – when the blue afterglow faded, and when the hurricane finally spit out an unconscious Russia with spinning spiral eyeballs – England heaved a sigh.

Oh, how he _despised_ main characters.

* * *

NARUTO [WATER/FLYING] VS ~~RUSSIA~~ [DARK/ICE]  
SASUKE 4: ENGLAND 4


	9. Laser-Guided Karma (1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me this far! I'm excited for this two-parter. [Chiisana Hibi](https://youtu.be/P3wRGA_ZXbc) and [Reverse Situation](https://youtu.be/Sv93yQE8bRo) were my music inspiration.
> 
> "Flying" types = aerial/wind, for the purposes of this fic.

The stakes were higher than ever now.

England settled into a peculiar silence as he put Russia’s pokeball into his pouch. His eyes were downcast. He saw past the sky’s crisp blue reflection in a puddle by his feet, no doubt a leftover from the blizzards earlier. 

His hand sunk deep into his pouch; he fiddled until his fingers closed firm around a new pokeball.

He closed his eyes. “It’s time.”

Sasuke didn’t understand at first. Then he searched his opponent’s face, sensed the atmosphere, and understood what he meant.

“You wouldn’t.”

England held his gaze. “I would.” 

There was a moment when Sasuke visibly tensed.

From across the field, the two glared heatedly at one another, until Sasuke broke away with a sneer. “Tch, whatever. Do what you want.”

“Wait, what?” Naruto interrupted with a shrill yell at their general direction, his arms flailing; “What are you talking about?" He looked back and forth between Sasuke and the sullen blond man with the foreign accent.

But no matter how loud he was, his complaints were like background noise to the two. The noise level hushed to a low buzz.

Keeping his expression carefully neutral, England tapped the pokeball in hand. Heaven knows he had never planned to resort to this. He inhaled, and proceeded with one of the biggest gambles of his short-lived Pokémon Master career.

The ball flew out into the air, and at the peak of its trajectory, seemed to disappear into the sunrays above.

“Get ready...” Sasuke warned.

Naruto braced himself, feeling nervous all of a sudden. He watched as the glob of red light eagerly shot out of the ball. A solid thump of boots landed neatly on the ground.

The light faded to a slick of gold hair, paired with a ridiculous movie-star pose. Naruto caught a glimmer of confident blue eyes, which was perfectly captured in the video camera’s close-up. 

“Ladies and gentlemen!” America announced, inviting the crowd in, totally in his element, “The moment you have all been waiting for!” The audience went bonkers, for his almost professional enthusiasm was infectious. Naruto’s jaw fell slack. He openly gaped at his new opponent, but Sasuke kept a neutral gaze. 

Meanwhile, on England’s side of the arena, America let off a satisfied sigh as he soaked up the crowd’s applause and cheering. 

“Would you please,” England yelled over America’s quips of “Thank you, thank you!” in between his waving and whopping, “for once behave like something _other_ than an insufferable child!” If only he could slap some manners into him.

America squinted at the match-up scores on the monitor overhead, “You’re kind of sucking at this, aren’t you?” he snorted. “No wonder you called me out.” 

Ignoring the string of red-faced insults barked over his shoulder, he turned his attention to the match at hand. “So where is he, the villain I’m fighting?”

With a tilt of his head, America peered straight over Naruto’s head to Sasuke at the other end of the stadium. 

“That cool stoic guy over there?” 

There was a pause. 

“ARE YOU BLIND?!” Naruto exploded. With an angry jab at his own chest, he hollered so loud he sent the other’s hair blowing, “NOT HIM!! ME!”

Slowly, America looked down at the seething boy.

Then he caught everyone off guard again by holding his hands in a ‘time-out’ gesture. “Okay let me get this straight,” he turned around, eyes narrowed, “ _I’m_ the third-act villain?” he said in a scandalized whisper.

England took a long, drawn out breath before he could bring himself to address America, who looked as if Christmas was canceled. “Now America,” he said lightly, in a tone reserved for toddlers and puppies. “How about you stop talking nonsense and get on with the battle, hm?”

America shook his head.

“ _Why not?!_ ” This was getting ridiculous.

“Look at him!” America threw his hands up, “That kid doesn’t look like he got a single evil bone in his lanky body! For crying out loud, I thought you called me out for a good ol’ fashioned save right before the climax!”

England, honest to gods, did not know what to say. 

Naruto could not believe what he was hearing.

“Nope. Can’t do it.” America shook his head again.

England slapped a hand over his forehead and began to rub circles around his sore temples. He should’ve known this would happen. Why does America always let him down when he needed him the most? 

“You know I wouldn’t have called you out unless I had ample reason to,” he hissed, holding a hand out to stop America from jumping back into his ball. “I’ll have you know that boy is the titular character of his show. He is stronger than he looks!”

“But why would I fight the MC?” America frowned, “Trying to make me look bad?” That’s exactly the kind of thing he’d expect from England. He was right to be suspicious.

There was a long pause as England scrambled to come up with something. “He beat Russia.” 

America halted in his steps, disbelief flashing across his face. 

“Well— _good!_ ”

But it was obvious that England had hit a nerve. Never mind that Russia was already weakened by several others before Naruto. England could see the internal struggle in those stormy blue eyes. What’s worse - playing the villain, or being inferior to Russia, his arch rival.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the battle field, Naruto side-eyed _his_ arch rival, “Psst, what are you waiting for? Let me kick his ass!” 

“It's fine, let them finish. Use your head before you act.” 

Naruto wondered what is that supposed to mean. Was Sasuke… worried?

While the bickering on the other side continued, Sasuke was too busy thinking to notice that Naruto had grown uncharacteristically quiet. He was going over strategies, special vs physical, type advantages. Naruto’s advantage was his high HP, evasiveness, and stamina. America’s rock type would be weak against Naruto’s water. But how much of an advantage would that be?

By now, America had finally turned back around and fallen back into his battle-ready position with a serious look. It made him seems miles more intimidating than before. Naruto readied himself.

It was time. The two trainers exchanged a nod. 

Sasuke decided to test the waters, “Surround him with _double team!_ ” 

Naruto broke off into a dash and made good work encircling America with a small army of himself. Like with his last opponent, he couldn’t resist a little fun. All of his copies stuck their tongue out, leering and taunting. America didn’t like his personal space (and peripheral vision) invaded by a sea of bright orange, but was unfazed by the taunts. 

“Stand your ground,” England pressed, “He may outnumber you, but he’s still just the sum of his parts! Go high and use _hammer arm!_ ” 

Right as Sasuke signaled Naruto to charge in, America pushed off into the air. A red aura bloomed from his shoulder down to his fingertips as he soared. Then, in a guillotine-like motion, he brought his fist onto the ground. Hard.

And, well – _shit_.

That entire side of the stadium imploded in a matter of seconds. Naruto did not expect a blow of such magnitude. His clones ran for cover, but most, if not all, were hit by the jutting rock plates and debris and dissolved instantly.

Sasuke winced. _I knew it._

America emerged from the crater he made, patting dust off his uniform. “Should’ve warned ya,” he said with a wink, “I pack a mean punch!”

Even worse, Naruto was nowhere to be found. He was probably crushed under a rock somewhere.

“Quit showing off. Look!” England pointed at a twitching orange leg under a pile of rocks from the outskirts of the crater. “Use _body slam!_ ” America broke into a run, building up searing momentum that promised an ugly collision.

Sasuke tried to warn Naruto. He wasn’t going to take any chances. But America had already closed the distance – and the next few seconds were a blur of hair-tingling motion and sound – the sound of things being crushed – rock against body.

And just when Sasuke thought Naruto literally became _dead_ last, the dust cleared. He and England were astonished to find America struggling to pull his shoulder out of a giant boulder he had crashed into.

It had been a clone.

Sasuke held his breath. So, his dimwitted rival was listening after all - _Use your head._

Before England could figure out what had happened, Sasuke called out, “ _Air slash!_ ”

Naruto dispelled his rock disguise, then swooshed down from – above!? – and nailed America on the back while he was distracted with pulling his arm free. He felt pretty accomplished, but there was no time to savor it. 

“Again!” Sasuke yelled, so he leap forth. But England was one step ahead.

He had America lift up the boulder and swing it around. Upon impact, it crumbled into pieces.

America waved to them in mid-air. 

“H-he’s scarier than the last guy!” Naruto muttered as he landed next to Sasuke. 

The next few minutes were terrifying for Sasuke and Naruto. Mostly Naruto, because he had to face the onslaught of attacks. But Sasuke was dealing with the very real possibility of losing the battle. This was on a whole other level. There were only so many earth-shattering, rock-crushing blasts Naruto could maneuver around. The battlefield was full of craters the size of mini-vans by now.

This was going too fast, damn it. _One hit, and we’re done for._

Sasuke had to think of a non-offensive strategy – there’s no way Naruto can overpower that monstrous strength. Why was England spamming flashy attack moves anyway? 

Sasuke wasn’t the only one getting frustrated. With his aim on Naruto, America complained, “Let me do a rock-type move, will ya!” 

England told him to shut it.

He realized his mistake when a sandstorm suddenly whipped up with the snap of a finger. That was America’s own doing. England called to him, once, then twice, but watched in dismay as his ex-colony's back disappeared into the storm.

Sasuke didn’t hear what England said, but America was ticked off and now Naruto was trapped in there with him.

 _Heh, what a guy._ He wasn’t sure if he should laugh or pity his opponent. England may have every advantage, but the catch was he could not always keep America in check.

* * *

Inside, Naruto nearly screamed when he felt a hand grab his wrist. This was it. He was done for. 

A moment later, he found himself at the center of the storm, with calm skies above. That smug glasses guy he was fighting earlier sat in front of him. Was he...making small talk?

“Sooo… Nardo, was it?” America began, as if he didn’t just repeatedly thrash Naruto in front of thousands of people.

“It’s _Naruto_.” 

“Oh, my bad.” He shrugged that aside like an afterthought, “Here’s the thing — I don’t want to fight you. Can’t have bad PR, you know?”

Naruto heard words coming out of his mouth, but could not follow. “PR?”  
  
“My reputation.”

America rolled his eyes, like wow this kid really can’t read the atmosphere. He clapped his hands together like he had a brilliant idea. “So how about this? To save us the trouble, why not forfeit the match? Just, uhh, pretend I knocked you out. They’ll be none the wiser.”

Naruto's hands curled into fists as this sank in.

“You’re asking me to forfeit?” 

“Kind of?” America peered at him. “I mean, no offense, you’re not gonna win. I’m too strong.”

Okay, Naruto admitted, he had a point there. He hated how small and helpless that made him feel. He stared at a spot by the ground dejectedly as the wind howled around them.

Seeing that he was still reluctant, America softened. “Hey, it’s not as great as you think. There’s no thrill to it when you’re as strong as me. Fighting feels pointless, and,” he chuckled dryly, “You get hate on for beating people up.”

It seemed to be working. Naruto unclenched his fists and slowly, reached to shake the other’s hand.

He stopped at the thought of Sasuke.

“I… can’t.”

America withdrew his hand with a frown.

“Let me guess, because giving up’s not your thing?” he admired that, of course, but being on the receiving end of this trope was so not cool. 

“I don’t know what that means, but NO!” 

Naruto stood up, determination shining in his eyes. He’d had enough.

“Why?” America was honestly bewildered. After all the effort he went through to toss him a free pass. Whatever else he said only fanned the boy's determination even more. 

“Because, it’s not my battle.” Naruto drew in a deep breath. “I’m sick of being alone, always the loser. So what if fighting bores you? I’ll prove myself so everyone will acknowledge me. And right now, there’s someone I _refuse_ to look weak in front of!”

America’s eyes widened.

Around them, the walls of the sandstorm began to dissolve. They stood facing each other, their jackets tossed by the wind, fighting a battle of resolves. The blurry figures of the two trainers on opposite sides of the field sharpened into view.

Smiling faintly, Sasuke shared a glance with Naruto. _There he goes again, giving another speech to the enemy…_

England had the opposite feeling. His eyes narrowed at America’s stiff shoulders. _Why is he just standing there?_

“ _Air slash_ , now!” Sasuke cried, “Then aim at the opposite side!”

Naruto swiped his hands up. A silver boomerang shot to America’s left while Naruto dashed to his right.

“Cancel it out with the same move!” England cut in, but America hesitated. He jumped backwards to avoid a direct hit, but got knocked off balance. 

That gave Naruto an opening to throw water shuriken blades.

England repeated what he said. This time, America knocked all of them away with silver swipe of his own air slash. He took aim at Naruto, then hesitated. That gave Naruto enough time to leap out of range.

“What are you hesitating for? Focus!” England demanded. He snapped his fingers to get America’s attention.

America groaned. Being yelled at in public was the worst, but he held his tongue. England was right. His heart wasn’t in this anymore.

“It’s nothing. I got it under control!”

He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince - England, or himself.

By now, Naruto had surrounded him more clones. Naruto showed no hesitation as he charged with a fierce cry. Over and over, America blasted him away with a tumbling rock slide. But even as Naruto darted from rock to rock, he found ways to sneak in an air slash or water shuriken between the gaps. 

Naruto knows he can’t win, but he won’t back down. The crowds were rooting for him.

 _Even **I’m** rooting for him,_ America realized.

Alone, those nights in the wildness, his struggle to be recognized, the sacrifices he made to become who he was. He understood it too well. 

_To be acknowledged, huh?_

No, no… Focus! He shook his head. Naruto was running towards him again with a new batch of clones. 

Like it or not, this wasn’t _his_ battle either. 

With renewed vigor, he mowed Naruto’s clones down in record time. Boulders were sent flying and crashing everywhere. Still, Naruto didn't give up.

“Save your energy,” England warned. If America kept wasting his big attacks like this, his stamina would wear out. But Naruto was coming at him from every direction. What other choice did they have?

“Easy for you to say," America panted, “I can’t tell which is the real one.”

 _But Sasuke can,_ England realized. He had been watching Sasuke closely these last few turns. There was a pattern to how his eyes always darted to the real Naruto, to keep him out of harm’s way.

“Fifth row, third from the right.”

They shared a nod.

America sped past all the other clones - straight towards the real Naruto. 

Alarm bells went off in Sasuke’s head. 

The plan was for Naruto to make clones to carry out his sneak attacks, keeping his real body out of the range of America’s blasts. While his clones kept America busy with close-range attacks, Naruto could gather energy to form another hurricane attack.

If America landed a direct hit now… Sasuke swallowed. 

“ _Sand attack,_ Naruto!”

Right as America closed in, every Naruto clone within range kicked sand into the air. 

"Use _lock-on_ and keep chase!”

A bullseye appeared in the lens of America’s glasses. His eyes burned, but he kept going. Even when water shuriken hit his ankle and forearms, he kept going.

Sasuke shouted something at Naruto, but America didn’t pay attention. He grabbed ahold of Naruto’s jacket collar.  
  
 _Gotcha!_

He picked the boy up and slammed him into the ground at full-power _._ A loud crash ripped the seams of the bedrock. Debris flew up in all directions and specks of dust made it all the way to the audiences stands. The rest of Naruto’s clones dispelled in sea of smoke.

Even though Naruto was the one taking damage, America felt as if he was being crushed. 

“I hope you’re happy, England…” 

* * *

NARUTO [FLYING/WATER] VS AMERICA [FLYING/ROCK]  
  
 **To be continued in Part 2**


	10. Laser-Guided Karma (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> England wasn’t sure what he was expecting. But it sure as hell wasn’t _that_.

America stood in front the Naruto-shaped crater he made. The arena had grown dead silent. All that’s left was to wait for the yellow dust to clear.

Huh, weird. Was the dust around them _twisting_?

He flinched when a hand shot out of the dust, yanking him forward. Before he could react, a super dense ball of wind slammed into his core, sending him flying.

At the center of the crater, Naruto stood shakily, eyes burning bright.

 _Impossible…_ England's heart sank. As he tried to make sense of what happened, he saw the wisps of energy from Naruto's hand. Could it be? During the last few turns, Naruto had been secretly storing energy for a massive _hurricane_ attack _._ The second Naruto was caught by America, Sasuke cried out - “ _Aim it at the ground!_ ”

 _It_ meant the attack.

Naruto used his special _hurricane_ move to cushion the blow. That’s why the crater was in the shape of a spiral. Then he waited for America to lower his guard.

 _Well played,_ England thought. Even _he_ had been too caught up to notice.

When the winds faded, America was on his knees, clutching his stomach. “Amazing…” he coughed.

That was rough. Luckily he was too sturdy to get knocked out, but all that twisting made his head spin.

It was so bad he could see rubber ducks floating around his head - _oh no._

* * *

After that, England had America go on the defensive. He needed time to for the confusion to wear off or risked hurting himself. But unlike Naruto, America wasn’t built for stealth or speed and it showed.

Everyone could see that Naruto was in worse shape than America after surviving that near-death blow. The boy was too drained to make more clones, so it was just the two of them in what felt like a wild-west style shooting range.

America was getting tired of those _water shuriken_.

Another one struck his hip. They were super effective _and_ hurt like a bitch. The stress was making his headache worse. Gritting his teeth, he dove behind a boulder and left his jacket behind as a decoy.

“What about now?” He looked for a signal from England.

“Not yet,” England shook his head, "We can’t risk it while you’re confused. Keep dodging!”

An angry curse drew their attention to Naruto, who had been pelting America's beloved leather jacket thinking it was America.

Soon, Naruto caught up to America, backing him towards the stadium wall. 

“Pin him to the wall!” yelled Sasuke, "Then finish it with a combined _hurricane_ and _water shuriken!_ ”

Naruto threw five blades that stabbed through America's uniform, fixing him to the wall.

The shock of it caused him snap out of his confusion. 

"Hurry, Naruto!"

The last of Naruto's energy was poured into his palms, this time wrapped in double ring of water.

America began to sweat. 

_That’s_ when England gave him the signal.

“America, use _brave bird!_ ” 

It happened so fast there was no time to react. One moment, America was eagle spread on the wall, then suddenly he began to glow like a nuclear reactor.

With a fierce cry, he torpedoed off the wall right as Naruto released his final attack. They collided in an instant jet streak that expanded like a balloon. Steam gushed out when America made contact with Naruto's water.

It was so overwhelming, Naruto couldn’t hear a thing. He had his eyes shut, heels digging into the ground and friction burning the skin of his palms.

He felt a pressure on his wrist, and then -

Power _surged_ into him. His winds intensified three-fold and obliterated all push back resistance. This felt pure. Not like the tainted power of the demon fox.

America simply smiled, and let go.

* * *

Soon the combined pressure rippled through the stadium with a screech. Naruto's knees gave out. There was a long stretch where he didn't know up from down, but he must have landed somewhere not too far. For what seemed like forever, the only thing on his mind was how nice it felt to lie down.

It was too quiet. He tried to sit up, mindful of his sore joints.

Voices came pouring back in but he couldn't turn away from a thing that glinted in the distance. Glass?

He concentrated harder, trying or remember where he’d seen it before. 

...America’s glasses?

Next to them was America, face-down and perfectly still.

* * *

“Did I win?” was the first thing Naruto blurted out when Sasuke ran over to his side. 

Sasuke tuned him out. He was still processing those last moments. It was hard to keep a straight face when the urge to smack and check Naruto for injuries were equally strong. The aftermath left Naruto’s hair stuck all over the place and his clothes a mess. 

He crouched down to his eye-level.

“Forget about that. What happened? _Brave bird_ should have wiped you out." He was glad it didn’t, but this made no sense. “I _saw_ you being pushed back.”

“Well...” Naruto scratched his head. He remembered that part. “Maybe I got lucky?”

“Yeah right, like you have some secret power I don’t know about.” Sasuke stopped to glance over at America (and missed how Naruto paled at his throwaway remark).

America's uniform was left in tatters where he crash-landed. 

Call it a gut feeling, but...  
  
“It was him, wasn’t it?” 

Naruto faltered at the memory of a fleeting touch. “I remember now! This sounds crazy but I think he transfered his power to me at the last second.” 

Sasuke said nothing. He was still staring at America, his face hidden in the shadow of his cap. Naruto couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. _Probably thinks I didn’t really win._ The thought of that made anxiety grip his chest.

“Oi," he growled, "You didn’t think I could pull it off?” 

Sasuke turned back to him with a scoff. “Are you serious? You don’t know what self-preservation means. I was _this_ close to withdrawing you.”

“Yeah? Why didn’t you!” 

They glared at each other heatedly, until Sasuke looked away.

“You were really into it. Didn't want to interrupt your big moment." He kept his face carefully neutral. "Why’d you keep fighting?”

Naruto felt like tearing his hair out.

“BECAUSE - YOU - AARGH!!”

While this awkward scene played out, England walked over to America. His shadow casted a dark streak over the other. Hands in his pockets, he stood there deep in thought. Needless to say, he had expected better out of this match.

Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something.

Was this America’s plan all along? No, it’s not like him to have that kind of foresight. Did he do it out of spite? He could be childish sometimes, but not that petty. They had a rough start, but stayed in sync during the second half. 

What was England missing? He turned to see at that orange eyesore still yelling at Sasuke. 

“You." He demanded, "What did you say to him?” 

Naruto stiffened. Too caught up in his spat, he almost forgot about bushy-brows number two. This was the first time they spoke directly and he didn't like where this was going.

“That’s between me and him.” 

England gave him a smile that didn't meet his eyes, “Don't play dumb. I have to know or I'm going to dispute the match results. Wasn't it after your little private talk that America began to act strange? _What_ -" he grounded out, "did you do to him? How can we be sure you didn’t reprogram his brain?” 

“I didn’t do anything to him!” Naruto bristled. He would've gone up to England if Sasuke hadn’t blocked the way. "How about you stop making excuses for your own failures!“

How distasteful.

England tuned him out. That last part had hit a little too close to home. He sucked in a long-suffering breath. In what ways could he have “failed” America? He did his best to guide and support him. So what if he'd subtly manipulated him into this even though he didn’t want to fight? Or was a tad harsh when he insisted on doing it his way - or called him out when he performed poorly? That was their whole dynamic.

“You’re both wrong.” 

Sasuke’s voice pulled him back to reality.

"The way I see it, your sentimental speeches,” Sasuke tapped Naruto’s shoulder, “and your lack of communication skills” He pointed at a scowling England then down to America, “led to this.“

"Go on." England said.

“Remember, his priority was good PR.” Sasuke tried to jog their memory. “Something his highness did not take seriously.” He held up a hand to silence any objections, “It’s obvious what happened if you stop to think about it.”

Hearing that, England went silent.

“He asked Naruto to… forfeit?”

"Yeah." Naruto nodded and blushed for some reason. "I said no."

“Obviously," Sasuke said, placing a hand on his hip, “And Naruto being who he is, must’ve rambled about getting stronger, becoming Hokage, blah blah blah-” He stopped to shove Naruto off when the other kicked him, “My guess is that his story was touching enough to win America over." Sasuke shared a knowing look with England that went over Naruto's head. “I’m not surprised. You know he is idealistic and has a soft spot for underdogs.” 

"That gullible fool!" Exasperated, England turned to Sasuke. "My god, he really fell for that."

"I _know_."

"You guys are so cynical." Naruto protested but couldn't argue this time because he was outnumbered.

The rest of the match was stalled as they disputed the results. The viewers in the audience stands began to talk among themselves, adding ambient noise io the conversation. England stood, slouched against the stadium wall while Sasuke sat next to Naruto looking as unbothered as ever.

Regarding England’s earlier complaint, Sasuke said this:

“It wouldn’t have worked on anyone except America, so it’s not foul play.”

England sighed at that. Naruto stuck his tongue out at him but yelped when Sasuke tugged him back by the ear.

“Now when the fight resumed, America’s top priority changed. He wanted Naruto to win, but struggled to reconcile that with his desire to not hurt England’s pride.” 

“Holy shit.”

England whispered.

Even Naruto was impressed. He didn't understand that part either. “You got all that just by watching us?”

Amused by their reactions, Sasuke said, “You were too focused on yourselves to pick up on the cues. The thing about lack of communication is that it goes both ways. It might have turned out different if America told England what he was thinking. But he chose not to. If he forfeited then, England would have a meltdown. So he decided to buy time for Naruto to wear him out, and when the opportunity came, transferred his power to Naruto so Naruto could win.”

"Why'd he throw me to the ground then?" Naruto wondered. If America’s plan was to let him win, that part didn't add up.

"Easy.” Sasuke smirked, “He wanted you to win but didn’t think you could. Not at first. So he resigned to his own victory. Why would he smile after you punched him?"

A rustling sound drew their attention.

“He’s right.”

Three heads whipped around in shock. America was still face-down in the same exact position. He had found the strength to lift a finger.

“He’s not human!” Naruto shrunk back, shrieking. The way he flattened himself against the stadium wall like a pancake was so over the top, Sasuke had to cover his mouth to stop himself from laughing at the irony. Meanwhile, England's face resembled a pufferfish. He opened and closed his mouth but said nothing. His fingers twitched like he couldn’t decide whether to choke America or himself first.

“Sheesh. I wake up and ya’ll are gossiping about me. But I've got to hand it to you,” America gave Sasuke a whistle of approval, “That was spot-on! I couldn't have said it better myself. I'd be clapping right now if I could feel my arms.”

“Hn, you’re not so bad yourself." Sasuke couldn’t resist returning the compliment. "If you’re gonna lose, might as well go out in style, right?” 

“Exactly! You totally get me.” America laughed in a genuine way he hadn't for a long time.

With that settled, America pointed a finger at Naruto, who was still on edge. “Don’t worry, I'm not getting up any time soon,” his hand formed a finger-gun, “Pleasure to meet you and good luck with-” he gestured at Sasuke's general direction, “everything.” 

“Uhh... thanks.” Naruto said.

At last, America waved to England. 

"No hard feelings, yeah?” 

For what felt like the hundredth time that day, England felt his blood boil over. How dare this prick talk to him so casually. It’s bad enough they lost the match. Now he’s making light of the situation too?!

“OF **COURSE** —”

Mid-scream, he noticed Sasuke and Naruto looking at him like he was an idiot.

“—not.”

Doubt began to seep into his anger. It was unnerving how quiet America had gotten. Sasuke gestured for him to keep going. That was enough for him to stop and rethink what he was about to say.

“Er, that is to say,” he tapped his foot impatiently. “I’ll...”

He’ll what? His mouth ran dry.

From the corner of his eye, Sasuke began to mouth his next words - _I’ll allow it this time_.

“I’ll allow it this time,” he said, dragging every syllable out like nails on chalk. “Er - which is to say. While I do not agree with your actions,” he tried to keep a straight face and looked back to Sasuke uncertainly - “I understand why you did it. Maybe if you weren't so god damn _conceited_ -" Whoops that was the anger talking. He cleared his throat. "I mean, if we weren't both so… misguided. I only ask that you be honest with me next time.” 

He waited.

Silence. Excruciating silence.

“Dude.” America was shaking with laughter when he finally spoke up, “You sound like you’re having a stroke.”

Just when England’s hopes were dashed, America added on a more serious note, “I appreciate what you’re saying, though. Or what you're trying to say, I guess. I’ll keep that in mind.” He broke into a yawn. "Put me back in the ball, will ya?”

England wasn’t sure what he was expecting. But it sure as hell wasn’t _that_. 

They watched America’s arm flop back on the ground, limp. 

As if on cue, an embarrassingly loud groan came from Naruto's stomach. All eyes on him. Damn, he had been content to watch the drama unfold. Now he was reminded of who cheated him out of a hot meal.

“Don’t look at me like that. You owe me!” 

Sasuke took in Naruto's sour face. He gave it some thought.

“Will you shut up if I buy you lunch.”

Naruto was in his face all of a sudden. 

“You mean it, Sasuke?”

Sasuke looked uncomfortable. England couldn’t hear them, right?

“…yeah, you deserve it.” 

He regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth. 

“Hell yeah I deserve it!” Naruto sprang up, eyes beaming with the force of a thousand suns, "I knew it - you think I'm the best!"

Heat rushed to Sasuke's cheeks. "I didn't say that-"

"Thought you could underestimate me? Take that! I’m gonna eat until I puke and then I’ll get stronger and one day I’m gonna be the Hokage!”

Accepting his fate, Sasuke rubbed his eyes tiredly. Yep, England definitively heard everything and was going to tease him about his 'date' later.

The only thing worse than a hungry Naruto was a cheerful Naruto. Oh well, he had to give credit where it's due. He couldn't have won without America’s meddling, but it was Naruto's determination that had carried them this far. 

With a flick of his wrist, Sasuke zapped Naruto back in his ball. England did the same with America.

With that done, England ran a hand through his hair. “Alright,” he turned to Sasuke, “This counts as your win.”

“And?”

“ _And_ ,” England lowered his head in a rare display of humility, “You were right. Bringing America into this was a dick move.”

Satisfied, Sasuke gave him a nod. He was glad England learned his lesson and even got some character development out of this. Besides, they’ve kept the crowds waiting long enough.

* * *

NARUTO [FLYING/WATER] VS ~~AMERICA~~ [FLYING/ROCK]  
SASUKE 5 : ENGLAND 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a short scene but I wanted to write some England-Naruto and Sasuke-America interaction. One more battle left, folks!


	11. Is This Thing Still On?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasuke prided himself on never losing his cool, but _this?_ Maybe England's temper was rubbing off on him.

This is it, the last match.

Both trainers reached for their last pokeball. 

The deafening roar of the crowds only added to how surreal this moment felt. Call him sentimental, but England was proud of how far they had come. They started this as equals, and now, they would see this through to the end.

With his head lowered, Sasuke took a step back. “Time to end this!”

“Do your worst!” England smirked and mirrored his back step.

They held their breath. The music swelled. Their pokeballs snapped open, light pouring out onto the field. Eager to see this matchup, the sea of masses cheered louder and it was all going incredibly well until -

...

“Sasuke-kun?” 

“Ve?” 

Whatever climax they were building towards wilted like a popped balloon. 

The color drained from their faces. You could almost hear them shut down and reboot, going through all five stages of grief at once. 

Of all the possible match ups they could have gotten…What the hell were Italy and Sakura doing on the roster? 

"What is the meaning of this?!“ Sasuke demanded, gesturing at the two.

For a while, England just made sputtering noises until his mouth could form words again.

“I don't know... this wasn’t supposed to happen!”

His magic was set to automatically summon from their main cast. It hadn't failed, technically. Italy was the titular character of England's show and Sakura was the female lead in Sasuke's. It's just. WHY? England wanted to kick himself. He hadn't accounted for this possibility.

At their outburst, Sakura turned pale while Italy covered his ears. Their converstion made no sense to them out of context. 

Sasuke prided himself on never losing his cool, but _this_? Maybe England's temper was rubbing off on him. Now Sakura was looking at him with concern. Not good. 

“Ignore whatever we just said.” Sasuke told her firmly, "Just, tell me. What attacks can you do?”

If she doesn’t know any damage-dealing moves, he was going to _lose_ it.

Italy gave England a kicked puppy look. “Attacks? Does that mean I have to fight her?”

“…Correct.”

“Um,” On the other side, Sakura tapped her chin. “I can use growl and tackle.”

Sasuke stared at her.

“That’s it?”

Sakura nodded earnestly.

 _O…kay._ Sasuke made a mental note to put Kakashi on his shit list for not training her like he’s supposed to. That was underwhelming, but... _I can work with that._

"And what about you, Italy?" England was afraid to ask.

"Me? I can curl into a ball and slow enemies down with pasta."

This time, _everyone_ went dead silent.

England couldn't even look at him.

 _There it is... the final nail in my coffin._ No damage-dealing moves. Not a single one. It's like part of his soul left his body, leaving his outer shell to crumble away. The championship, his glory, everything he worked for now rested on Italy's version of _defense curl_ and _string shot_.

* * *

Ten minutes in, not a single person was having a good time.

Italy used _defense curl_. Sakura used _tackle_. Italy ran. Sakura ran after him. Italy used _string shot_ to slow Sakura down. Which meant he threw a trail of rubbery pasta behind, forcing Sakura to sidestep or jump. Her sandal landed in tomato sauce when she skidded to a stop. It was gross. Sasuke told her to forget her ruined sandals and _tackle_ Italy.

She tackled him, slamming into him with her full weight. Cowering, Italy immediately pulled out a white flag in surrender. England yelled at him. Absolutely not! Even in the face of certain defeat, he would go down kicking and screaming.

Sakura steeled herself. She gave chase again. Italy ran and performed _defense curls_ alternating with _string shots_ every other turn. Sakura tackled him; she tried her best, putting all her weight into it. But it did little damage, because his defense couldn’t get any higher.

It took another 3 turns for her to land a hit because of those noodles slowing her down. It turned into an exhausting cycle of _tackle_ , _tackle_ , _tackle_ , Sakura chipping away at Italy’s HP a little at a time. To break up the monotony, Sasuke even had Sakura unleash a _growl_ at Italy, for no reason other than to see her do it because he was going (in England's words) out of his _bloody_ mind.

Then it occurred to him. England was going to drag this on forever, wasn't he?

It occured to England that Sasuke knew he was going to drag this on forever.

“I can’t take this anymore.” Sasuke held up the pokeball. “Return.”

She was in the middle of chasing what has to be the nicest opponent she ever faced. She felt sorry for him; he was clearly not a fighter, and doing these repeated attacks felt silly. It felt like they were part of some inside joke, but she didn't know what either of them did to deserve this.

So when Sasuke cut the battle short, she felt relieved. Red light surrounded her and returned her to his pokeball.

Italy sighed and took the time to wipe his sweaty forehead. He had never ran so much in his life.

England looked even more exhausted than Sasuke.

“Point taken.” He took Italy off the field as well. “Well, what now?”

It was just them, an empty battlefield, and no options left. 

“There’s still Naruto, but…” Sasuke didn't want to resort to that. The idiot had like, 1 HP left and would faint by tripping on pasta before he could get to Italy. Or faint from hunger. Or he’d be so desperate he might… eat the pasta...off the ground? He smacked his forehead at the idea. It would be a letdown, so he shook his head.

“I want to win, but not like this.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel.” England admitted. This doesn’t feel right.

The whole stadium had gone quiet. They were dangling on the edge. All Sasuke needed was one more win - he was _so_ close. But it was too late for England to add new characters on the fly. That’s not how his magic works, but now wasn't the time to get technical.

In his heart, Sasuke yearned for a no-frills battle. No asspulls like Itachi vs Russia, no power difference like Naruto vs America, no absurdity like Italy vs Sakura. Just pure strategy, a thrilling challenge.

Why couldn’t they have _that?_

They glanced at the empty stretch of space between them, then back at each other, and... 

Had a crazy wonderful idea. 

* * *

~~SAKURA~~ [NORMAL] VS ~~ITALY~~ [BUG]  
SASUKE 5 : ENGLAND 4


	12. Defeat Means Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SASUKE [ELECTRIC/FIRE] VS ENGLAND [PSYCHIC]

The world felt brighter when they stepped out onto the battle field.

With a flourish, their trainer outfits began to transform back into their usual outfits. Flexing his fingers, Sasuke idly examined his navy blue collared shirt and beige combat shorts. With each step, England felt the seams of his olive-green military jacket lock back into place. 

The audience had grown tense, every pair of eyes focused on their silent back and forth.

Sasuke spoke up.

"We've come full circle." 

_I’m bored. Do you want to battle me?_

"A happy coincidence.” There was a twinkle in England's eyes that made Sasuke wonder if this had been the end-goal. Typical of him, always doing things in the most roundabout of ways. 

“Now then, shall we begin?” England lowered his head in a mock bow.

Sasuke's eyes flashed red.

To start, he had to test the limits of England's abilities. He jumped up and threw a kunai blade point-blank. 

“ _Flamethrower!_ ”

As soon as England ducked, Sasuke sucked in a lungful of air and shot forth a roaring fireball. A wave of heat charred where his opponent stood.

“ _Psybeam!_ ”

A twisting vortex burst through Sasuke’s flames. 

Sasuke threw his weight into a back-flip to dodge it, but just barely. He landed a few paces behind, frustrated by what happened. England had come out of the fire pit with no burns or scratches. How? 

There were too many unknowns, so he tried a different approach. Three shuriken stars were hurled at where England stood. They all had metal wire attached. Holding his breath, he watched to see how England would avoid getting tangled.

The trajectory of his stars intersected and… phased through England's afterimage.

“Figured it out yet?”

Sasuke spun around, heart pounding. His flames bathed the stadium walls in red. But England was gone - now at the far end of the stadium.

“He’s toying with me...”

That's not speed - it’s _teleport_!

The thought made his body seize up. Reading muscle movement was the only way he could stay ahead of his opponent. This complicated things. He could predict _when_ England would teleport, but not where he’d teleport _to_. 

Sasuke shifted his weight into a defensive stance. Direct attacks weren’t going to work. Think. He needed a new strategy.

With his _extremespeed_ attack activated, England whizzed around him in a silver blur, sending dust flying. Sasuke could see the outlines of the other’s body overlapping. Too much information to analyze. He couldn’t block every rapid-fire hit, they were too fast -

He felt a yanked on his ankle. The world tilted upside down.

England warped above him. “Let’s see you dodge this — _swift!_ " 

A flurry of gold stars rained down from England’s palms. Sasuke landed on his feet, but could barely catch his breath. Every star exploded into a dust cloud upon impact. Get away - he had to get away. Panting, he had to sift through the wreckage to retreat to the other side of the field.

When he looked up, England was floating above him, his face obscured by the blinding sun. 

“I like this side of you.” Sasuke said.

That made the edges of England’s smirk sharpen.

England had assumed he was being sarcastic. He wasn't. How unfortunate the parts of England that he admired were always hidden beneath so much self-deprecation. Wild, unruly - that's who England really was. Better than that tiring gentleman act. He was thrilled to get a glimpse at a immortal being with the mind of a military commander and the bravado of a pirate.

“Had enough?” England took his sweet time adjusting his tie. 

But Sasuke seemed _too_ calm. 

“Hmm…no.”

Without warning, the explosive tag he had planted on England’s back (earlier, during that _extremespeed_ strike) burst into flames. The shock of it made all the audience members jump. 

Its impact knocked England to the ground, and off his metaphorical high horse. 

Sasuke closed in with an attack. But England warped away, as he expected.

Where England would reappear was anyone’s guess. Logic said he would come in from a distance, gunning for a long-range attack. But Sasuke bet the island-nation was mad he fell for the oldest trick in the book, and nothing short of a fist fight would satisfy him.

“Next, you’ll come from behind— ”

Right as England warped in, Sasuke swung a leg around, startling him. 

The next few minutes passed in a blur. Only the sounds of punches, kicks, blocks, and dodges could be heard as they threw themselves into the fray. It was an uphill battle for Sasuke. It should’ve been simple. In theory, he could predict England’s every move. That’s where England’s centuries of combat experience shined. Sasuke had to give him credit - it took finesse to deflect the hits of a Sharingan-user. The height difference also made it hard for him to get a hit in above the shoulders. That, and England’s fighting style was baffling. Half-boxing, half-trickery. The madman even flicked a handkerchief in his face -

And it _worked!_

Sasuke nearly doubled-over when he was punched in the ribs. 

The pain made him lightheaded. It didn't stop him from latching onto England’s arm in a vice grip.

“ _Thunderbolt!_ ” 

Nothing could have prepared England for the electric currents that set fire to every nerve in his body. He let out a garbled cry. Their bodies flashed bright yellow, until he forcefully twisted his arm free. 

“Why you…!” England tried to get his bearings. First the explosive tag, now this?! He was going to be turned into a kebab at this rate!

But Sasuke wasn’t done yet. Once England warped a safe distance away, Sasuke activated a new move: _Mimic!_

All he had to do was picture England's last move, down to every minute detail. Drops of the other's physic energy flowed into him. The same violet glow covered his body. It must have looked sinister on him. England stiffened.

“My turn.”

His afterimage wobbled. A moment later, he was gone.

Time to go on the offensive.

* * *

Going into this, England had what he’d like to call a 'Sasuke-proof' plan.

He was no fool. The Uchiha boy’s advantage was his clan’s ocular technique that boosted his vision and reflexes. Not to mention predict muscle movement. But the longer it was active, the more energy it drained.

The plan was to hit him with super-fast combo moves and projectiles. Disorient him, strain his eyes. Strike when he blinked or let his guard down.

Still, he had to admit, the boy lived up to his reputation as a genius. Sasuke was quick to adapt. Took him less than a minute to master England’s ability. Even the limitations, he had no trouble keeping up with. Every one of his moves accounted for how neither of them could _teleport_ during another attack and the five second cool down before they use it again.

Everywhere England went, Sasuke followed, lagging just a split second behind. 

It was infurating how quickly the tables had turned. He knew better than to try close-combat attacks again. Twice, he’d been burnt. It wasn’t worth the risk, no matter how punchable Sasuke’s face was.

“ _Swift!_ ” Gold stars danced in his eyes.

Sasuke was ready this time. Firing up the shuriken blade in his hands with sparks, he ripped through England's cascade of falling stars in a single sweep.

England didn’t even see him warp away. 

It was increasingly hard for the people in the stadium to keep track of them. One moment the two of them were at the far end of the field- now they were clashing on the other side - no wait, up in the sky! Trading bursts of hot fire with swirls of dark energy. They kept glitching in and out, bending space and gravity to their whims.

They were evenly matched. The tiniest slip would tip the balance.

England knew this. So in between charging up attacks, he tried to distract him.

“That’s it? You’re nothing but a copycat!” 

A blade narrowly whizzed by his ear. 

“I don’t want to hear that from some _washed out_ ex-empire!”

A chorus of whistles and gasps filled the stadium.

England, however, was not to be bested in the sacred art of trash-talking.

"Ha!” he snarled, “I may not be in my prime, but-” 

He shot forth in _extremespeed_ mode, coating his hand in psybeam. Sasuke’s yellow fist flew at him. He caught it, buffering the other’s shockwaves, saw the boy's pupils dilate in fear.

"I have more than enough to beat _you_.” With his other hand, he slammed Sasuke’s head down to meet his knee.

For a few seconds, Sasuke was blind and airborne.

 _That’ll teach him,_ England huffed, although he himself wasn’t unscathed. That _psybeam_ coating was so acidic it could buffer electric attacks. But it had melted his glove off, leaving the skin of his hand raw and bruised. That was not going to work a second time.

Once Sasuke stopped the bleeding from his nose, he realized two things.

First, England - that proper bastard - was _just_ as sore about the ‘ex-empire’ thing as Sasuke was about his brother. Second, his hold on teleport was weakening. He had to finish this now.

Their aeral battle continued.

At some point, England had exhausted Sasuke of all his ninja weapons. But all Sasuke had to do was charge electricity and aim at the ground. Instantly, the discarded blades flew into his palms.

 _Stay calm!_ England repeated to himself like a mantra.

This was a guessing game for him. Unlike Sasuke’s deliberate moves, his were half instinct, half trial-and-error. He noticed that Sasuke’s movements had gotten riskier, more desperate. _Teleport_ must be running out. Knowing that, England steadied himself. The advantage would be his if he could last a little longer.

With the breakneck speed they were going at, it was only a matter of time before-

He warped right into the path of several kunai blades.

 _Big mistake._ Sasuke had been waiting for this.

The heat of his _flamethrower_ raced up the wires to ignite the explosive tags in-

_Three…_

_Two…_

Eyes squeezed shut, England held his arms out. A translucent screen materialized in front of him.

_…One!_

The blades disappeared into the screen. It flashed white.

“ _Mirror move!_ ” England yelled and threw every explosion back at Sasuke at double the power. 

* * *

Contrary to popular belief, Sasuke didn’t personally enjoy the act of fighting. Growing up, it just was ingrained as a way of life. Fights were used to test his abilities and measuring how strong he was, a means to an end.

This felt…different. 

His was in a daze when he emerged out of the plume of dark smoke. His ears were ringing and his lungs were still coughing up smoke. He still tasted blood from that knee in the face. Honestly. He'd never felt so paralyzed. It took everything to not to let it show on his face. His trial of teleport had expired, along with all trace of physic power. His Sharingan was on the brink of shutting down… 

His hands clenched into fists. All that effort setting up that previous attack, wasted. 

When he managed to sit up, England was standing over him, a sizzling ball of psychic energy aimed at his face. 

“Any last words?”

Time seemed to have stopped.

Sasuke began to think back.

Why did he want to fight England to begin with? It wasn’t boredom. He wanted to see the man in a new light. He had thought little of him when they first met. Then somewhere along the way, that had changed. Maybe he wanted the other’s respect. But, he pondered, didn’t he already have it? England had taken him 100% seriously from the start - spoke to him as an equal, hadn’t held back. His entire life had been about winning. What would he gain from that? Nothing he didn’t already have. So what would _losing_ mean?

“Go ahead.” 

Sasuke’s blank gaze made England’s skin crawl.

England began to think back.

 _Mirror move_ was the last attack he used. Could Sasuke have copied it? This had been a concern in the back on his mind. _Go ahead,_ Sasuke had said. That felt so out of place it fueled his paranoia. He chewed on his lip anxiously. Right before those tags exploded, there was a small window of opportunity for Sasuke to use mimic. If he fired now, Sasuke might bounce his own attack back at him. Unless it's a bluff? But Sasuke wasn’t the type to bluff … or was that what he _wants_ England to think? 

Neither was confident as he seemed. While England’s thoughts went in circles, Sasuke finally made his peace with losing. His let his body go lax, his elbows sinking lower to the ground.

England still hadn't moved. Just kept glaring at him, with those unreadable green eyes. What was taking this idiot so long to eliminate him?

He was getting tired. His eyes began to wander. Wait.

Sunlight reflected off a piece of… wire? It was partially hidden in the shadow below his left knee. Looking farther out, he could see it was tied to the ends of his discarded blades, all tangled up, and (his pulse shot up) all around England.

_Don’t make sudden moves. _His hand trembled as he inched towards it.__

Meanwhile, England had finished examining all twenty-something possibilities and decided that Sasuke was probably bluffing, so time to resume his atta—

All weapons nearby lit up, shocking England to his core.

How? England screamed internally. He’d been watching Sasuke the whole time?!

While he was spasming, Sasuke poured the last of his energy into the ace up his sleeve. Three rings formed in his hands - lightning, fire, and ice - and spun together in a blinding beam. 

__

“ _Tri-attack!_ ” His cry rang over the cheers of the crowd.

__

Upon impact, the three-fold blast buried England where he stood.

__

Panting, Sasuke let his knees sink to the ground in disbelief. He had accepted defeat. He had accepted it, for the first time in his life. Warmth settled in his chest.

__

He ran a hand over his face and chanced a peak at his opponent.

__

Only England would look so pissed off when passed out.

__

He let out a fond sigh. The edges of his vision began to fade.

__

* * *

__

When they came to, they found themselves back in England’s living room. The sofa they sat on had been overturned, making their legs dangle above their heads. The rain outside had stopped; sunlight was shining through the window and onto their faces.

__

They glanced at each other.

__

“Congratulations.” England said.

__

“Shut up. You could have won and you know it.” 

__

“Whatever,” England tried to dismiss it like it was no big deal. “It was fun.”

__

Sasuke hummed in agreement. 

__

They stared up at the ceiling, tried and failed horribly to not smile. 

__

The next few minutes were spent propping the sofa back in place and fixing the cushions. The mood hadn’t died down. At last, England cleared his throat and turned to Sasuke with a solemn question.

__

“… Best two out of three?” 

__

Sasuke slammed the table, “You’re on.”

__

They nearly tripped over themselves to grab the consoles and wand.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finished! Whew! :) 
> 
> I have never finished a story before so, at last, it's out there! This started out as a silly idea, a way to practice writing. Then I put more into the characters, so it ended up being more of a straightforward story with a crack premise than crack.


End file.
